


a ray of light

by Quixcy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Fan Club, Bendemption, F/M, Fix-It, Force ghost what, Post-Rise of Skywalker, Redemption, Spoilers, The rise of Skywalker ending, ben solo comes back to life, redemption shouldn’t mean death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixcy/pseuds/Quixcy
Summary: POST-TROS. SPOILERS.Ben Solo died on that dark and desolate planet. And he came back to life in a ray of light.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 223





	a ray of light

**Author's Note:**

> I SAW TROS AND I AM NOT OKAY. I really wanted Ben to have a redemption and not a death, mostly because death is kinda a cop-out considering all of the atrocities he’d been a puppet to for... literal years. ANYWAY I DIGRESS.
> 
> This is why we have fanfic, right? 
> 
> Also, please don’t look too closely at the Force in this fic. Consider my fic space Vegas, where anything goes. Anyway, please enjoy!

**

“ _Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you_

 _who_ _transform into the Force._ ”

YODA

**

There was nothing.

Of course there was. He expected little else. He tried to hold onto the thought, the feelings, the moment her lips pressed against his. That impossible moment. A moment he didn’t deserve. But it was real nonetheless. For a moment—

And then gone.

He tried to keep the memory with him, but he felt it pouring away like sand through his fingers. He couldn’t grasp ahold of it long enough. The warmth of her skin. The way, for a breath, he felt the thrum of her life beneath his fingertips as he gave his all to her. He thought it would hurt. It _deserved_ to hurt.

But it simply felt like losing your breath, like being submerged beneath ice water, like suffocating, knowing you can never come back up for air and then—

What was he trying to remember?

Something important, but it kept slipping away—faster and faster. What was it about? A girl? A ray? Something important. Something he didn’t want to forget, but now he couldn’t remember.

He felt empty. Incomplete. Lost. Particles spread thin in a wide and buoyant Force. An expanse of nothingness.

And he thought, as he drifted apart, how alike the nothingness felt to the dark.

**

“ _If there's a bright center to the universe,_

 _you're on the planet that it's farthest from._ ”

LUKE SKYWALKER

**

The temple was a lot taller than Rey expected. The rain stung her eyes, and the wind cut at her skin—this unnamed planet was an awful place to be. It was cold, and she pulled her poncho tighter over herself. Why had the Force led her _here_ of all planets?

She should have gone with Poe and Finn as they went to drive out the First Order that remained. She should’ve been celebrating with the rest of the galaxy. She should have been happy and content and pushing forward.

But something had pulled her to Tatooine. And now something had pulled her here. Something deep inside of her that was cracked and fraying, like the end of a rope that had been severed.

She pushed the feeling down, and climbed the hill to the temple. Something pulled her here. Something that felt familiar—something she hadn’t sensed since…

Since that terrible dark planet.

Her heart trembled at the thought of whatever waited on the other side of those great stone doors.

 _Please,_ she prayed, though she couldn’t remember the last time she asked the Force for something so selfish. Because this was selfish, and heavy, and sharp.

It was a kind of grief that wanted to pull her to the floor.

She pressed her hand against the giant stone door.

It opened with a sigh.

She stepped into the ruins, out of the rain, and pushed back her poncho hood. Her footsteps echoed in the great chamber—that’s what it was. A chamber. Seven gigantic pillars held up the glass dome roof, but as she stepped further into the chamber, she realized they weren’t pillars at all. They were large statues holding the glass dome above their heads. Their faces had been worn away by time, but she could sense who they once were, like a call deep in her blood.

Jedi.

Ancient ones from a time long past.

And in the center of the chamber was the largest kyber crystal she had ever seen. It balanced precariously on the tip of a cone that jutted up out of the floor, as if held there by some invisible force.

…But there was no one here.

She thought—she could’ve sworn…

She closed her eyes, swallowing the knot in her throat. Another dead end. Perhaps this was what she deserved. This jagged piece inside of her, this hollowed and broken connection.

This dead link to a boy who no longer existed.

“I can feel you,” she whispered into the dark chamber. “I can feel you but you aren’t here.”

Not there.

Not anywhere.

Never again.

She turned toward the door to leave.

A wind carried itself into the chamber, bringing with it star-shaped leaves from the forest beyond. And a voice—soft, whispering,

_Stay._

Then, as the wind picked up and the rain clouds parted, a shaft of light tumbled down through the glass dome—and into a mirror on the other side of the chamber. The light bounced off of it, and jumped onto the far wall.

There were mirrors scattered around the chamber at odd angles, actually. Seven of them, climbing all throughout the chamber as the sunlight poured in, igniting all of them.

Oh, it was one of those contraptions that redirected light.

Her spine tingled, and the Force guided her hands to the mirror she could reach. She pushed it down, angling the light toward the large crystal in the middle. When the sunlight hit it, it glowed a little brighter. The air around her felt electric. Jittery. Alive.

She rushed over to the next one, ten feet above her, and flung out her hand, and the mirror tilted, bouncing bright golden sunshine onto the kyber crystal. It glowed a little brighter in return. Then she did the next one, and next one, until the crystal was so bright she could barely look at it without her eyes watering, and there was only one mirror left she had to adjust.

It was very high. She tried to grab a hold of it with the Force, to turn it—but it wouldn’t budge. It was rusted into place.

She tried again. Jerked at it. The mirror began to crack with the force.

With a feral cry, she let go. Tears of frustration burned in her eyes.

“What do you _want_ from me?” She shouted to the stone statues all looking down, watching her with their impassive stone eyes. “Why bring me here? What’s the _point_? I saved the galaxy. I restored order. I survived—why did _I_ survive? Why did he…” The words caught in her throat.

_Why did he give his life to me?_

She felt broken inside. Half of a whole, a piece of something that would never be again. Palpatine had said something about a force bond she had with Ben, but she hadn’t imagined that when he died it would feel like a nail driving itself, eternally, deeper into her soul.

No, she’d come too far to give up now.

She cleared her mind and took a deep breath. Then she raised her hand to the mirror again, and with all her might, pulled.

**

_“Close your eyes. Feel it._

_The light . . ._ _it’s always been there._

_It will guide you.”_

MAZ KANATA

**

There was a ray of light in the nothingness.

It called, like a song he almost remembered. A name he almost knew. Then another light burst to life in the darkness—and another. They caught onto specks of him, a sliver of what remained, and when it did those bits remembered. They coalesced. One memory, then another, and another. Knitting together.

Creating something. Remembering something.

Remembering…

Fingers calloused from a lightsaber. A scar on his stomach, healed over on a salty wave-ruled planet of rain. A burn across his face, old and puckered. Messy dark hair. Broad shoulders. Blood and bone and skin and regrets.

So many of them.

No, he did not deserve this. He didn’t deserve—

_Make it right._

_Fix your mistakes._

And then in a voice that sounded like his mother—

_Redeem yourself, Ben._

Ben.

That was his name.

Jedi bodies always faded into the Force. They joined the invisible push and pull of the cosmos in motion. So it made sense that the Force could give them back. It just never had before.

But if he went back, if he chose to return…

What was there for him?

He felt the catch of the Force inside of him, the string that connected him to the scavenger girl. The one with nutmeg hair and crystalline eyes, and a face open and forgiving. He saw her in the darkness, turning slowly toward him, bathed in sunlight. Warm and golden where there was once nothing.

And he ached for it. For her.

He reached for her. Reached, like he had so many times before. For her, to her, _because_ of her. To rise to her level. To make himself better. To make him _want_ to be better. Oh, stars, he wanted to be good enough for her.

With every atom in his being, every spark of Force in his soul, he wanted to try.

**

“ _Be a candle, or the night._ ”

YODA

**

She reached toward the light. It blinded her, but still she reached. She didn’t know why, but something pushed her forward, one step at a time. A string winding tightly, reeling her in.

She felt him all around her. In the air. In the sunlight. In herself.

And so blindly, she reached out.

But where she thought her fingers would brush against the kyber crystal, they met something else. A hand. Large and warm and soft. Her heart leapt into her throat. Her fingers folded between his.

 _His_ , because she knew, just as she knew when Leia had passed, when Luke had died. It was a flicker in the Force, like a star you’ve seen your entire life going dark, leaving a vast void behind, but this was the opposite. Instead of a flicker into night, it was a spark catching on a candle wick. It was a burst of flame, a binary star coming to life.

Tears burned in her eyes.

He was there, just there, just beyond.

What if she just went? If she walked through, and left. Would her body disappear like his had? Would she join the Force? Would this ache deep in her middle go away? It went so deep it hurt, so deep she knew nothing would ever fill it. Nothing ever could. A part of her was gone.

Maybe if she followed him…

A hand steadied her arm. She glanced over, and Leia smiled at her.

“ _Other way, kid,_ ” came a familiar voice to her other side, and Luke took hold of her shoulder tightly.

“ _Let’s bring him home,_ ” her master agreed.

And together, they took his hand, and pulled.

**

“ _The belonging you seek is not behind you . . . it is ahead._ ”

MAZ KANATA

**

Ben Solo had died on a dark and desolate planet.

He came back to life in a ray of light.

It was like being pulled from everywhere in a sea into a tiny speck of sand. He stumbled, every atom inside of him vibrating, when someone caught him—or tried to. They both fell down onto the cold stone floor, and his head was spinning, and he couldn’t quite think straight. He blinked, and she came into focus, framed by glorious sunlight. She knelt over him, brushing the hair from his face. Was it really her? Was this some trick? He reached up, shakily, fearfully, because in what lifetime did he deserve this? In what trick of the universe?

His fingers brushed against her cheek. It was warm and soft. And then he looked at his hand. He was—he was…

Cold—he could _feel_ the cold. And he could feel his fingers, and his arms, and his long legs, all in one place, not scattered across the nothing like some errant wind. And it felt—he felt—

He jerked to sit up, his lungs burning. He gasped for breath—and then again. His chest rose and fell with the effort. The air tasted stale. The sunlight was closing, slowly, from clouds rolling swiftly over the sky.

He was really here. He was—he was…

“Ben?”

Her voice drew him out of his panic. He looked at her, her hair slightly awry from the travel, her eyes bright with tears. Tears?

She was… crying?

Then something warm rolled down his cheek and he pressed his hand against it, and realized that he was crying, too.

The first thing he said was—“I’m sorry.”

But at the same time, she said, “Thank you.”

That surprised him. “F-for what?”

“For what you did for me. It was brave.”

Oh, that. He looked away. He didn’t feel very brave anymore. “It was all I could do.”

“That’s not true.”

“Your life meant so much more than mine—”

She took his face and turned him back to face her. Her eyebrows knit together in anger. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I’ve done so much wrong, Rey. Even as Palpatine’s puppet, I was still complicit. I was still a monster.”

“Then help me save people. Help me bring order. Help me fix all the First Order has broken, including you.” The last part she said softer, a plea.

“Broken?” He hadn’t thought he was. He thought he was warped, twisted, corrupted and unusable. But something broken…could be repaired, couldn’t it? Something broken could still be used for parts. It meant that she saw good things somewhere inside of him still. Places that the Dark Side hadn’t touched.

Specks of light.

“Broken,” she repeated, her voice soft and sure, “but still good.”

Still good.

And then she leaned forward and snagged his mouth with hers, and kissed him, hoping he would understand, because she wasn’t very good with words. She never had been. Being a scavenger, she rarely had someone to talk to, and even as a Jedi actions always seemed to come easier than any words she could speak. And Ben, to his credit, once the shock of her mouth on his waned, and she began to pull away, he leaned forward to kiss her again, drawn to her light that brought him home.

“I love you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the moment he said them he felt bare and raw and silly.

But then she smiled against his mouth and replied, “I know,” and kissed him again.


End file.
